


Red

by sappling



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: M/M, there's a lot more but uh too much to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7444336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sappling/pseuds/sappling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mafia AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

Harmonies of sweet song birds greet him at the entrance of the old garden, fully bloomed under the warm spring’s sun. He follows the familiar zagging stone path, worn and cracked from years of use, from the pretty greens of his home, to the exit where hundreds of men wait, lined up neatly in two columns, a single space in between left for him. He reaches their sight and in one swift and unified movement, they neatly bend their bodies a complete ninety degrees, “Young master Takumi, have a good day!” they bow, firm and trained voices booming into the air. He nods in acknowledgement, but would never get used to it, their everyday morning routine that is, where he walks down the almost neverending manmade aisle born from respect, in an awkward silence. A silence that made him nervous, that allowed him time to brew self deprecating thoughts that he wished to vanquish.

Respect.

Respect…It wasn’t towards him anyway. 

The end of the aisle reveals a single woman standing next to his well polished black motorcycle, a gift he received gratefully on his 20th birthday from his beloved mother. He can’t seem to recognize her though, the woman in front of him. Her star dusted face smiles so childishly innocent to him, “Young master Takumi,” she bows with earnest and vigour, but it doesn’t quite reach the perfection of a  ninety that the others have displayed, “I’m a new recruit for your family. Mozu is my name, it’s a real honor to meet ya.” He smiles in response and commits her name and image in his heart, “Mozu...I will remember your name from now on,” She outstretches her hands, calloused and painted a shade darker by the sun; they are small against the helmet he retrieves from her. 

The engine of Fujin Yumi roars, eventually fading out both their temporary farewells and the clear view of their bodies. The fifteen minute drive into Ylissean territory allows Takumi to recall the pleasant storm of last night, his thunderous elder brother suddenly striking upon their home after two whole months of  still grey skies. Rains of relief washes their family of two hundred and six. Ryoma is alive. They are two hundred and seven once more. 

_ “Two hundred and nine.” _ he corrects himself.

Mozu and Scarlet.

His brother must be fond of the stars.

Fujin Yumi stills, and Takumi rests her amongst others of her kind. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his white bomber, and makes his way through the car littered parking lot. Visible long blue tails catch his eye near the entrance. Impeccable posture, and a face identical to only one other,  he isn’t mistaken. “Flora!” he calls, quickening his pace as to not make her suffer another minute of wait under no shades. She turns and gives him a polite smile, “Takumi. Good morning.” He wonders why she is always so distant and reserved when her sister is always ....always. A familiar (he wishes it wasn’t) thud breaks his thoughts.  It’s beautiful really, how careless Felicia always managed to be so precise in different ways than Flora. 

“Felicia...good morning,” he greets, “Why are you two waiting here? Where is Oboro and Hinata?” 

“Morning, Takumi! Oboro and Hinata are doing an after class impromptu presentation for extra credit...Mostly for Hinata though,” Felicia laughs as she dusts off her baby pink skirt, now blotched with unflattering browns of the earth. She gets distracted when Flora sacrifices her favorite baby blue handkerchief, the one Takumi always sees her with, in attempt to rub off the blemish off her. As she works, Flora continues her sister’s thoughts, “They texted Corrin asking him to do their morning greet instead. As usual, he turned it into a game and this time I happened to lose. Felicia is just tagging along.” She ends the sentence with a pleased smile, traces of the stain on her sister’s skirt all gone. Perfection. 

“I see, well you didn’t have to...or rather thank you.” he replies as they all begin to make their way toward the Ylisse University campus center, a good walk aways from the parking lot they were currently at. The winds are soft and the sun is bright, the kind of weather that Takumi enjoyed. 

A voice stops the three halfway, “Flora.” He can recognize it. He recognizes it’s irritatingly confident tone, belonging to a a tongue so sharp, it would be enough to cut him down, cut down his…Flora glances back at Takumi with a look of unease, which he takes note of and backs away a good distance while Felicia trails behind him. It was no secret to the neutrals he befriended that he had strong and unwavering disdain for Nohr. 

Felicia is watching them, shifting the weight in her legs every now and then, but Takumi’s back is facing them, uninterested. Interested. Flora and Felicia, daughters of the esteemed DIA ICE company located right on the border of Ylissean territory and Nohrian territory. It makes Takumi wonder. He refuses to turn around though, to look at the son of the fucking scum that made his father bleed to death.

Takumi barely remembers what his face looks like. 

Sakura had once commented on how beautiful it looked. He had fumed at her (and regretted later on) that she had the nerve to call someone, a person who had  _ killed _ their father, beautiful. She cried, “It wasn’t him though...it was his father, not him!” It would make sense to think that way, but Takumi wasn’t as forgiving as Sakura, nor as caring as Hinoka, and definitely not as righteous as Ryoma. He was...he was Takumi: bitter and angry. To him, any son, any daughter, any man under the rule of  Nohr’s 7th boss was an enemy, a murderer of his father.

If they weren’t on neutral territory, Takumi would have shot through him more than a hundred times, and relish in the red.


End file.
